The small choir finished bellowing out “We Three Kings,” and their audience clapped, hands poking out of the small access panel in each of their prison cell doors.

Heads pop up and down at the narrow windows of each cell, as the prisoners crane their necks to see what’s going on in the middle of their wing of the prison.

A lone guard walks to the doors, putting a key in each, one at a time, as he goes. A team of volunteers, some in shabby Santa hats, come right behind him. They take turns being the one to hand over a Christmas package to each prisoner, with a quick handshake or a hug.

Christmas behind bars is no fun — and it's not meant to be — but programs like this help to build a better connection from the prisoners to the people outside, said Scott Lewis, warden of Perry Correctional Institution in southern Greenville County.

That matters because most prisoners are going to be released, he said. They're going to be back outside, and part of making their return successful will be keeping that connection to the outside, Lewis said.

More than a dozen inmates at Perry spoke to The Greenville News during two visits behind bars about what it feels like during the holidays.

It's everything from the worst time of the year to just another day behind bars, the prisoners say.

There is a Christmas dinner, paid for and served by local church volunteers. And there are gifts, cheap and practical, collected every year by the state's Southern Baptist churches and a few others. More than 2,000 churches, representing every county, collect donations every year to keep the Christmas gifts coming.

Running for more than four decades, it might be the longest-running program of its kind in the nation, said the Rev. James Michael Brown, the chief of chaplains for the state prison chaplain program.

There hasn't been much controversy about the gifts, and there are thousands of churches and church members who have seen value in reaching out to the prisoners every year, Brown said.

"It's just miraculous," he said. "It shows there is a consistent concern for people who are incarcerated. Most projects, the interest will wane over time but this one has sustained."

The gifts, which prisoners look forward to each year, are wrapped only in gallon zip bags, with no bows and no ribbons. The bags are stuffed with a religious book, a writing pad, pen, five stamped envelopes, a deck of cards, a Christmas card with something nice written inside, a piece of candy, toothpaste and soap.

The inmates appreciated the Zest brand soap. They get supplied soap and family members can order additional items through the commissary for Christmas gifts or year round. But Zest isn't on the commissary menu. It's a small treat.

Inside the prison dorms, one of the church volunteers hoists a white sack filled with those zippered bags, as Santa would, and hauls it over to the cell doors.

It's a reminder for the prisoners that someone back in their home county cared enough to package up something for them. They're not forgotten, and that helps them to become better people, Brown said.

Church organizers spend all year collecting donations, writing inside the cards, packing it all up, getting the bags inspected for contraband and finally delivering the packages by the thousands to the various prisons.

There are nearly 20,000 people in the state prison system. They'll spend birthdays, anniversaries and years behind bars for their crimes.

The Perry inmates who spoke with The Greenville News said they have come to terms with what they've done. The two biggest wishes are a path to become productive when they've been released and to not be forgotten when they are behind bars, prisoners and chaplains say.

Running for 42 years, the gift program aims at that second wish: Don't forget us.

The gifts are simple but meaningful.

Some of the inmates are in a lower-security wing, and they're able to mingle with the caroling volunteers and the would-be Santas carrying white sacks of hygiene gifts.

It’s a routine every year. Prisoners look forward to the gifts.

Everything they get is provided by the state, paid for with their own money or given by someone from the outside.

Christmas and the end of the year is always a dark time in prisons, said the Rev. Frank Epps, senior chaplain at Perry, who added caroling this year to the annual gift handout. There are more suicides and more inmates acting out, which makes it dangerous for guards and ultimately worse for the inmates too, he said.

As the carols die down and the last gifts are handed out, Epps, the chaplain, stands on a metal bench.

The loud room gets quiet, except for the sound of howling fans at the ceiling.

Epps tells the prisoners about a fellow inmate who has been moved to another prison to get treated for cancer.

“It doesn’t look good,” said Epps, who spent 17 years as a registered nurse before becoming a full-time prison pastor. “If it’s his time and God takes him home, I promise we’ll have a ceremony here.”

Epps apologizes for bringing down the mood. He reminded the prisoners that his goal was honesty and left with the volunteers after all the gifts were handed out.

More than a dozen volunteers, from several churches and prison ministry groups, were able to hand out more than 800 gifts in under two hours at Perry.

The volunteers then left the last of the prison dorms and went into a gym to say a goodbye prayer along with a handful of trusted inmates who help the chaplains.

The gym has barren white walls and a tiny tree by the door. The tree is visible from the prison yard when the door opens. There are no ornaments hanging; that’d be a risk inside the prison. So it’s a strand of lights and some tinsel instead.

Epps said he plans to keep adding trees and decorations, but it’s all coming from donations.

Hank Cannon said it’s his first year as a volunteer, giving out gifts to the prisoners.

The construction firm owner said it’s about showing the prisoners they are not forgotten, they are still loved.

“God is working hard in the prisons,” Cannon said. “It’s a really deep experience.”